Nguyen Tieu likely never imagined that one day, I would lead thirty thousand troops to the city gates, demanding that Ly Van hand over the map. Even though Ly Van himself was not particularly angered by my actions, yet his younger sister would likely not be so forgiving.
I did not return to the main city right after that, not because I don’t want to meet Nguyen Tieu. Instead, I ordered Vien Thang to escort the map and the troops back ahead, while I wandered alone along the banks of the Truong Giang. The river stretches endlessly; were one to walk its entire length, it might take a full month. But at this moment, time hardly seemed to matter. If not now, then when? I had once heard that Van Tinh had built a grave for me here, though I never knew whether it was true, for I had never asked. To imagine questioning someone from a hundred years ago, asking whether, in a past life, he had once built me a grave, felt absurd beyond measure.
I do not know how long I walked. By the time White Shade – my beloved horse – showed signs of hunger, I could no longer deny my own need for rest. Toward late afternoon, the sun grew weary and sank toward the horizon, brushing the river’s surface with hues of gold and silver. I stood there for a long while. At times, the scene felt eerily familiar; as if I myself, blood-soaked and broken, had once collapsed here, that gilded light the last thing my eyes had known. And yet it also felt distant, like nothing more than a cruel trick of memory. If I were to find that grave, what would I do then? Clean the grasses, or tear it apart?
Suddenly, a powerful gust cut through the sky. Above me appeared what looked like a crimson leaf, swaying unsteadily in the air. When it drew nearer, I saw it was a young man dressed in white, seated upon it, his expression filled with concern.
I do not know how long it took Van Tinh to reach this place. His face was sunburnt, slightly darkened by the elements. And yet the first thing I asked, the moment Bach Van Tinh stepped down from Bach Phuong – she used to be my phoenix before I gave to him – I asked:
“Do you have any food?”
Bach Van Tinh burst into laughter. I hurriedly corrected myself, turning serious:
“Food for the horse. White Shade needs it. As for me, anything will do.”
Van Tinh laughed again.
“‘Are you well? How have you been these past days?’ You cannot bring yourself to say such simple words to me?”
“Perhaps it is because I am a girl who was never properly taught the rites,” I said softly. My thoughts drifted to my old master on the mountain, to the mother who wished never to see me again. I then wondered whether Han Tu Du, in a past life, might have received a better education than I.
Van Tinh suddenly stepped closer. Before I could react, he had already drawn me into his arms, his hand slowly brushing my back.
“I searched for you for three days and three nights. Even Nguyen Tieu did not know where you were. My advantage over him lay only in Bach Phuong’s ability to fly this far and this fast searching for you. So tell me, what were you after? What were you wandering here for?”
“I heard you built a grave for me long time ago, just wanted to see whether it was beautiful. But I could not find it, and in the end, I do not even know whether you truly built it at all.”
“You are far too willful. Such a simple matter; and yet you made everyone search for three days and nights.”
I meant to ask who exactly this “everyone” was, but I felt too lazy to pursue the question. In the end, I could only smile wryly.
Lam Hà 